He bobbed his head up and down, as if he understood her completely.
“You wouldn’t have done very well in battle.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she said, followed by a yawn that she was quick to cover with her mouth. “I’m sorry for my lack of manners, I just can barely keep my eyes open—”
“There’s no need for you to remain awake,” he said, coming towards her. “Close your eyes and sleep.”
Grateful for him, she nodded and closed her eyes as she fell back against the straw-filled mattress. The creaks and knocks from Rhys moving around the room lulled her into such a heavy sleep that it was hours before she opened her eyes and only then did so because of the bright morning sun.
Frowning, she turned her head out of the sunlight, then rotated her body so that she might find some peace from the viciously bright light. But when she did so, her nose brushed against something solid. Much too solid for a pillow or quilt. Her eyes fluttered open and she was faced with the nude shoulder of a man.
Louisa’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. There was a half-naked man next to her and her—
Oh dear, that’s right. She was married.
She remained perfectly still, while Louisa’s gaze drifted from Rhys’s scar-covered shoulder, down his well-developed arm. Lifting her head a fraction, she saw a muscular chest, bare as the day was new. He was lying on top of the quilt, his lower half still covered in buckskin pants.
Suddenly, Rhys’s body shifted, and Louisa dropped her head and shut her eyes tightly. She was sure he was awake, as his breathing had shifted and for a terrible moment, she knew he was looking at her.
Holding her breath, she tried to appear relaxed, but it was impossible.
“Good morning,” his rough, sleep-heavy voice murmured.
She opened one eye and saw him staring at her. Her heart was racing.
“Good morning,” she repeated.
The smallest smirk appeared on his face.
“I hope I haven’t startled you. Sleeping in bed and all.”
“Oh, no. Not at all.”
A long pause followed.
“We are married.”
Louisa swallowed.
“Yes, we are.”
He shifted again and to her embarrassment, Louisa flinched. He stopped moving, his head cocked as he looked down at her.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m not going to force myself on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Louisa’s cheeks burned. She was mortified.
“I-I didn’t think you would.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but then, appearing to think better of it, he sighed and lifted his body out of bed. He was moving about the room, dressing himself as he did.
“We should be on our way. Fenwick Park is still a half day’s journey north.”
“Yes,” Louisa said as she sat up, confused by their interaction.
